-grower, laden
with sticks, chose this moment to cross the road, thinking himself, no
doubt, agile enough to escape my six horses. The cries of my people were
useless. The imprudent fellow took his own course, and my postilions, in
spite of their efforts with the reins, could not prevent themselves from
passing over his body; the wheels followed the horses; the poor man was
cut in pieces.

At the lamentations of the country folk and the horrified passers-by, we
stopped. Madame de Maintenon wished to alight, and when she perceived
the unfortunate vine-grower disfigured with his wounds, she clasped her
hands and fell to weeping. The Marquise d'Hudicourt, who was always
simplicity itself, followed her friend's example; there was nothing but
groans and sorrowful exclamations. My coachman blamed the postilions,
the postilions the man's obstinacy.

Madame de Maintenon, speaking as though she were the mistress, bade them
be silent, and dared to say to them before all the crowd: "If you
belonged to me, I would soon settle you." At these words all the
spectators applauded, and cried: "Vive Madame de Maintenon!"

Irritated at what I had just heard, I put my head out of the door, and,
turning to these sentimental women, I said to them: "Be good enough to
get in, mesdames; are you determined to have me stoned?"

They mounted again, after having left my purse with the poor relations of
the dead man; and as far as Ruel, which was our destination, I was
compelled to listen to their complaints and litanies.

"Admit, madame," I declared to Madame de Maintenon, "that any person
except myself could and would detest you for the harm you have done me.
Your part was to blame the postilions lightly and the rustic very
positively. My equipage did not come unexpectedly, and my two outriders
had signalled from their horses."

"Madame," she replied, "you have not seen, as I did, those eyes of the
unhappy man forced violently from their sockets, his poor crushed head,
his palpitating heart, from which the blood soaked the pavement; such a
sight has moved and broken my own heart. I was, as I am still, quite
beside myself, and, in such a situation, it is permissible to forget
discretion in one's speech and the proprieties. I had no intention of
giving you pain; I am distressed at having done so. But as for your
coachmen I loathe them, and, since you undertake their defence, I shall
not for the future show myself in your equipage."

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